


White Shadows

by Dominatrix



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Romance, Set before "Thor"
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2013-11-10
Packaged: 2017-12-18 09:41:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/878386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dominatrix/pseuds/Dominatrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young woman from Midgard learns more than she would have imagined during her stay at Asgard.<br/>About herself, about other realms. And about a certain prince of Asgard.<br/>Loki.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beauty

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a birthday gift to Bristol, a wonderful girl whom I got to know rather by chance (I thank twitter for that).  
> I wish you a very happy birthday and much fun with your story.  
> Though I know you for only a short time I already hold you dearly in my heart.

There were many things Bristol had called beautiful in her life.

She liked calling things beautiful, because it gave her the feeling that no matter how many ugly and fearsome things there were in the world, the beautiful things always won in the end, though there were moments when all hope to a life full of light instead of shadows seemed unreachable for a small girl like her. Bristol had always felt small, and not even when her body grew she managed to understand herself. Not even now, when she was 19 years old, she realised that she had a place in the world that belonged to her and to nobody else. That she really had a right to exist.

The fact that she was the earth’s representative when it came to negotiations with other worlds, other kinds of creatures that were so different from humans - but also very similar in a way only a handful of creatures in the whole galaxy could understand, let alone explain - tasted of bitter irony. Because how could a girl – rather a woman – be expected to defend the interests of a whole planet, a whole species, when she couldn’t even defend her own interests?

But maybe this – her complete and utter insecurity when it came to her rights – was the biggest reason why she was the only human being alive that actually fit into the role of a representative. She didn’t see a monster when looking at a frost giant, didn’t see atrociousness when looking at jewellery which only a dwarf woman could think of as lovely. She saw beauty. Strange and sometimes hardly understandable beauty. But she treated everything she got to know with the same kindness she treated the persons and the things she loved.

She drew a connection between the rough gestures of a frost giant’s dancer to the thunderstorms she adored so much. When they awoke her in the middle of the night there was no tiredness that could keep her from sitting up in her bed, desperately looking out the window, letting the lightning flash before her eyes until she had the feeling she’d be going blind if she watched just another splinter second. Every thunderbolt made her bones vibrate and her body flinch, but she always watched this spectacle with a smile on her face that could have melted the deepest abysses of Jotunheim.

She saw the same kind of enthusiasm in the bearded face of a dwarf that was hardly half her size when he told her about their home as she did when her younger brothers, who she almost regarded as her own children, described her everything that had happened while they were playing.

She had the special grace people used to read about in old myths; the second face, seeing a world no one except her could see. Maybe this was the reason she had never really felt like she belonged to earth. But she would have never thought that it was because she was destined for something else, something _more_ , something she could hardly understand when she was told for the first time.

Bristol could always find a similarity between things that had nothing in common when everybody else was regarding it.

But nothing she had ever put her eyes on could compare with the breath-taking, unbelievably absolute beauty of Asgard when she saw it for the first time.


	2. Astonishment

"It's a view one can get used to, isn't it?" a deep voice asked next to her. The sound of it was filled with the same amazement that rushed through her mind right now, eager to take in every sensation.

Bristol turned around to face the person who had addressed her while forcing her racing heartbeat to slow down, but could see no one. Just when she looked down a bit she spotted a man. A man with the size of a child. He had a wild, dark beard that seemed to cover all of his face and was also entangled with his long hair that already showed grey streaks, and sparkling, greenish-brown eyes within this maze of hair.

"It is indeed" she replied lowly. Never had something taken her breath so fast and so complete without leaving a nagging taste of fear on her tongue. It was something truly new. It amazed her, until every nerve in her body was alert to take in all the information. Partly because she was afraid that this would only be a dream, that she would wake up in the next second, again fighting against this heavy weight that seemed to crush her chest and left her breathless when she gave in to the fear, to the horror. To the shadows.

It had taken her a long while to accept them, to see them as an inevitable part of her history. If these shadows wouldn't be there in her mind, clouding every acquaintance with the same thought - When will they hurt me? When will they back off from me? - that couldn't be avoided, she might not be here now.

It was little comfort, after all she had been through, but she had lost her belief in comfort so long ago that it seemed to be enough. At least for now.

Again she turned to the strange man, who was still looking at her in an irritating however quite friendly way. "First time you see it?" She just nodded. Conversation with strangers had never been her favourite thing, and it really annoyed her. When she was with her friends and the people she was comfortable with she was loud and funny and lovely. With strangers she seemed to be shy, almost arrogant in her insecurity because she didn't know what to say and it was far easier to just press her lips together, cross her arms in front of her chest and hope that the moment would pass.

“I think my reaction was similar to yours, girl. But where are my manners” he cut himself off and reached out a tanned, clumsy hand towards her. She took it carefully.

“Duneyr, at your service. May you never need it.”

“Bristol. Nice to meet you, too”, she answered shyly, still not sure what to think of the dwarf. Suddenly a silhouette caught her attention, the silhouette of a rider, approaching them. In fact, there were half a dozen people coming towards them. But she noticed only one.

“Who is the man on the white horse?! She asked Duneyr, forgetting her shyness because of her curiosity. Duneyr chuckled lowly as he heard her astonishment in her voice.

“This, my dear, is Loki. Loki Odinson. Prince of Asgard.”


	3. Attraction

Loki. Loki Odinson. Of course she had heard of him. She would be a quite bad ambassador if she hadn’t heard of the princes of Asgard. Only now she recognized that Thor was sitting on a reddish-brown horse right next to his brother. They looked so different it almost seemed impossible that these two men could really be brothers.

Thor – his being flashed in shades of gold and blue, all warmth and the energy of thunder, his smile like sun rays after a long winter. A strong posture, his frame as big and impressive as a mountain range.

And then Loki – only contrasts, contrasts between the most blinding of lights on his snow white skin and the deep abysses of Yggdrasil hiding in his hair and his gaze. His lips were smiling as he walked towards them after stroking his horse’s neck for a moment, but his eyes were cold and motionless, and Bristol could only see a hint of confusion in them, if anything at all. He also was tall, but slender, with a catlike grace in his movements.

She had never imagined him to be so…appealing. His face was fine-cut, all cheekbones and the sharp outline of nose and jaw. In all the whiteness and blankness of his face his eyes appeared to be even darker and more hypnotizing. Of course she had been told about the Trickster, or Silvertongue, how he was also called. But never had someone said a thing about his fascinating and unique beauty.

Bristol almost felt impolite for staring at him in such an offensive way, but he didn’t even seem to notice her at all. He talked to his brother lowly, and on his other side to a dark-haired, fierce woman. They were all in armour as if preparing for battle. Bristol knew that it was tradition for Asgard to welcome the ambassadors of the other realms in their battle dresses, and suddenly, when comparing herself to the beautiful woman clad in shining silver and raw leather, she felt horribly underdressed in her plum-coloured top and black jeans.

She had a dark gray blazer flung over her arm because she had already assumed that the weather would hit her with force, but she hadn’t imagined it to be this harsh. She didn’t like warm weather; it made her think slower and especially made her mood go down. Already she felt how a heavy weight lay down on her shoulders, and when she swallowed her mouth was dry as a desert.

Again she turned to Duneyr. “Why is he here? I thought Thor is going to be King of Asgard soon.” Duneyr nodded slowly and thought about her words for a second before answering them.

“Odin always thought that it was the legacy of his sons to connect the worlds, to maintain peace. They learned the tongues of all kinds, of all folks. And Loki…He always had the feeling that he was second. After Thor.”

Bristol frowned. “So he tried harder.” It was a statement, not a question. She knew the feeling of trying hard but never feeling good enough only too well. She couldn’t hide the sharp edge in her voice, the bitterness that clung to her words like cigarette smoke clung to clothes, but Duneyr didn’t say anything about it, though he looked at her from the corners of his eyes in a knowing way.

“Exactly. But Odin still hasn’t acknowledged his efforts.”

A tiny sigh crept out between her lips. “How horrible.”

He shrugged. “Loki never really belonged to them. I’m not sure why. But even we ambassadors have the feeling that he’s not one of them. I saw him grow up, saw him about once a year whenever an assembly was called for. In the beginning he clung to Thor like a puppy would cling to its new master. As he years passed, he has changed. He isolates himself.”

“But he looks happy” she mumbled lowly, as the Asgardians now came closer.

Duneyr chuckled, but it sounded a little bitter. “Dear, there is no point in lying to me when every blind could see that Loki is far from being happy.”


	4. Blindness

Bristol took a sharp intake of breath, but she had no chance to reply because the small group was now mere fifteen feet away. She wasn’t sure why she had assumed that the dwarf wouldn’t notice the signs of utter destruction and anguish on the prince’s face when they were so obvious, when it was so impossible not to notice them.

Perhaps she had grown so familiar with the thought that people around her just couldn’t see hurt when they saw it, that they would just shut their eyes, pretending everything was alright, that in fact Bristol was the one that got something wrong. It was easier for them, but horrifying for her, and in some especially black moments she didn’t know if they weren’t right. If she was the one to blame. If she was the one behaving incorrectly.

It was hard to keep a good view on reality when these thoughts crept into her skin, mostly at night, when she struggled to gain at least a part of the peace which the days lacked.

Duneyr was squeezing her hand softly, and when she looked at him with a puzzled look on her face, he just smiled. “Stay here with us, love.” She felt the blood rush to her cheeks. It had happened to her before that she had been carried away by her thoughts, by her fears, but most of the time she managed to get back on her own. She tried to square her shoulders, to fake the self-conscience she knew she would need here, but the weight was still there, though it faded under the calming pressure of Duneyr’s hand around her fingers.

Thor approached her, a beaming smile on his lips, friendliness and glee sparkling in his blue eyes. However, Bristol could not help but wonder if this expression showed his real emotions, or if it was just a mask he could wear whenever he liked. She shook her head to chase the thoughts away and replied Thor’s smile. It looked almost real, and right now it was the best she could come up with.

“My name is Thor Odinsson, of Asgard. I appreciate your efforts you must have taken to come here. If there is anything you need, just speak to me.” She was stunned by his voice. Thunder could not sound more rumbling, but at the same time it had a spark of joy that outweighed the seemingly dark base. He spoke good English, she recognized it with a half-smile, but she could read in his face that it was hard for him to present the words to her. She took the hand he had offered her and nodded shortly.

“I thank you for your hospitality. Asgard is an extraordinary beauty, to be honest the most beautiful thing I have laid eyes on in the last years, if not my whole life.” Thor still smiled at her, but it was obvious that he had understood not a single word. Well. Maybe he had understood Asgard.

Helplessly he looked to his left, where his brother was standing, engaging in a seemingly heated discussion with a tall, slender man. He had a very delicate frame, long, almost white hair and was dressed in an elegant forest-green cloak. Bristol assumed that he had to be an elf, and she was highly amazed by his appearance.

However, there was a certain coldness about his aura, something that made her uncomfortable. His eyes were piercing and seemed to mirror his soul, both unmerciful, both unforgiving. She could not understand a single word Loki was exchanging with the elf, but from their gestures and facial expressions she guessed it probably wasn’t about the pleasing weather.

Thor interrupted them with an apologetic gesture toward the elf, who threw his hands into the air before crossing his arms in front of his chest, and then mumbled something in Loki’s direction. The other prince scrunched his nose and shook his head, but when Thor put a hand on his upper arm and looked into his eyes, he shrugged his shoulders and let out a small sigh.

A moment later Bristol saw herself opposite to Loki Odinsson.


End file.
